


Banish the Cold

by OatmealCider



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky thinks he is Steve, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OatmealCider/pseuds/OatmealCider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recovering a memory is like treading a path in the snow. The more times one goes down it, the easier it is to see one's footsteps along that path. Bucky Barnes' mind is locked in a viscous blizzard. He remembers the information on Steve at the Smithsonian clearly, more easily than the information on James Barnes. Steve is safe, strong, and he wants to <i>be</i> Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Banish the Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Please, give this song, "Sky Blue Eyes" a listen, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RDNVWyMmEks  
> A lot of the songs from this OST are pretty perfect.

Recovering a memory is like treading a path in the snow. The more times one goes down it, the easier it is to see one's footsteps along that path. Bucky Barnes' mind is locked in a viscous blizzard. The electricity scrambles his thoughts and buries all of the old paths so well he can't remember his own name. Every-time he goes looking he becomes lost in the storm. The man who used to be is no longer who he was. There is no future if there is no past, but the present can only be seen by looking forward. The solider muses, with an arm drawn protectively around him. 

What would it feel like to remember? He wonders. Would he ever be able to remember the names of all of the faces he has killed, or all of the faces that Bucky Barnes had once loved with his whole heart. There is no answer in the winter of his mind. Only silence. Silence is his one solace these days. 

After the fall of Project Insight, the former soldier, the asset, had only a name and an exhibit from the Smithsonian museum to go by. He had felt like anyone else in the museum. Staring at ages old information, blankly trying to fill in the reverent words with a semblance of familiarity. Looking at the lives of Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers had left the soldier virtually unaffected. He felt himself sliding past the words and pictures, trying to look interested. The teenagers, who seemed to ignore everything but the devices in their hands, made Bucky appear less out of place, but no less out of time. 

He was not James Buchanan Barnes, the soldier didn't know how. But he ached desperately to be somebody. 

Steve had given him a name, and with that, an identity. He felt happy? How does someone feel happy? Where did the thought even appear? Why did he rip and punch and bleed when he'd been overjoyed with the news. With Steve's battered body below him, uttering words that brought tears to his eyes and anguish to his lips. Bucky thinks that to be happy, is ultimately to be in agony. He remembers nothing but pain, and remembering is painful. Bucky does not want to remember. 

But he does. The assassin within him cannot cope with this. Soon enough, Bucky has scraped together something that resembles an existence. He traverses streets at night, always at night, and slumbers by day. The sunlight hurts his eyes if he is out in it too long. He wonders idly, at the brightness of the world, as he remains curled over himself and the ragged clothes he's found. 

“The Target, I saved him, he's my mission,” The soldier whispers, his voice monotone because a machine does not have the right to sound like a person. The part of him that is Bucky retorts, “No, you idiot it's Steve, you saved...oh God, Steve, Steve, Steve...I,” The soldier cuts Bucky off, when he starts to sob. Remembering hurt too much. He had wondered what it felt like, and now he knew. Pain was around every corner. The pain made his mind white. Bucky shouted at the Soldier to go away and die. that it, the asset, was wrong, and he wasn't a machine.

The soldier responded, “You need me, or else it will be cold, and the snow... ” He struggled with the words. Supplying the sentence's Russian counterpart as well. It is enough to make Bucky pause in his head.

“I...I can't be James Barnes, I can't remember him, but I have to feel. I have know what it feels like...as a person. Without that....I'll die.” The soldier stops on this. Bucky is right, the soldier does no function outside of prerogatives and orders. Bucky on the other hand feels like splintered glass and if he's out for too long...the fragile young voice will simply shatter and die. 

The soldier doesn't trust Bucky, there's too much about him that is helpless, “broken,” Bucky replies, morose. It's in between silent sobs that Bucky thinks of Steve again. He was so strong, kind, and confident. Even when he was near death Steve seemed impregnable. Bucky gasps. He remembers the information on Steve at the Smithsonian clearly, more easily than James Barnes. There was so much about Steve there, much more than James. Steve was strong, he was a person,he could remember things, and feel.

There's a switch that kicks on in his brain, and the soldier is on his feet with a new directive in mind.  
Steve, he wants to be Steve. Steve will offer him safety from himself. Now the soldier can slumber as Bucky bids, whilst Bucky can slowly come to terms with what is happening, if he ever does. 

He's never felt this way before, it's not happiness, because there's no blood-gore-death, but he's resolved. A silence reigns over his mind unlike what he has felt before. The reassurance that this brings him is better than the coddling of his handlers. The smile that creeps across his face is warm and strong like a fresh baked apple pie. It makes things hurt a little less.

\---

Steve rubs at the back of his hands absently. He's sitting under the shade of a patio umbrella not sure what to do anymore. He's tired most days, more tired than he's ever remembered feeling. It doesn't help he can't drink himself silly anymore, not that he ever really had. When he'd been smaller he had mostly abstained because of his medications. After receiving the serum, well, now he was simply too healthy. He remembered Thor laughing and pulling him close. He promised that Asgardian Ale was far superior to the watery piss they had on Earth. Steve could almost believe him. There weren't any express trips to space in his future though. Steve was too busy searching for his friend. Or maybe mourning.

If it hadn't been for Sam, he might be halfway across the world right now, searching through archives and the shells of Russian compounds. Sam had made the call in the end, when Steve couldn't bear it anymore. No sign of Bucky, and all of the things that Steve had found frankly made him a mess. There was little closure in finding out what had happened to Bucky Barnes. The man himself appeared to have vanished off of the face of the Earth completely. 

That is, until Steve looks up and sees something absolutely confounding. There is a man across the way, his hair cut short and waved, clean shaven wearing normal clothes. The face turns towards him, and his expression must mirror Steve's own. 

“What the hell...Bucky?!” Steve is instantly on his feet, his serum enhanced body reacting before he can stop it. The Soldier is up faster than Steve, however, and takes off.  
Steve is following in Bucky's footsteps, heart in his throat and his hands shaking. It's a hot day in New York. Finally, as Steve rounds the corner of a building he's met with a thrust of a mechanical arm. Naturally Steve blocks it, and steps back, ready to defend himself, but not to strike. 

Their eyes meet and Steve's stomach has joined his heart in his mouth. Both organs feel like they're trying to escape through his lips. “God, Bucky....You look....great. I...I can't,” Steve's lightheaded as the words tumble out. He moves to put his hand on his friend's face, because the urge to know that his friend isn't an illusion is so strong. Bucky doesn't protest when Steve cups his cheek, “Jesus, Bucky, I was worried sick. I didn't know if you were even alive anymore.” Tears are threatening to spill out of Steve eyes regardless of the way he swipes at them. 

“You remember me, right buddy?”

Bucky's features are carefully blank, “Yes,” he says, a note of wonder in his voice. The flood of relief that crashes over Steve is almost unbearable. Bucky continues, “...but, who the hell is Bucky?”  
Steve's heart goes cold. His hand falls back to his side. He knew this was too good to be true, to believe for one second that Bucky was actually alright, that he'd figured himself out. 

“Bu-Bucky, that's you. You're my best friend. You remember that right?” Bucky steps away. His shoulders drop ever so slightly and his entire frame is trembling as he stares into the pavement.

“I....I yes...” his voice is so soft it hurts to hear, “but-but I can't be. I'm not him, I can't be him.” Bucky tenses as his eyes meet Steve's again. He looks like he is on the verge of a panic attack, or running away, or both. Steve catches his hand before either happens.

“It, it's okay.” Steve reassures his friend. The phrase sound hollow even to him. Yet Steve needs to say it. “I don't care if you're him or you aren't. I just want to help you, because I am, and always will be your friend. No matter what.” A sound escapes Bucky's throat and he sinks down clutching his head. He's shaking.

“I know,” Bucky answers as tears come spilling out of his eyes. Steve's kneeling beside him with one hand on his shoulder. He pulls him closer and the other hand begins rubbing small circles into Bucky's back. Bucky's sobs are quiet and pained. Steve pulls Bucky's head into the crook of his shoulder and tries to be calm like he doesn't actually feel. He tries to ignore where they are; in the middle of Manhattan and in an alley. His entire focus is on the man beside him who is all but sobbing. 

In between sounding soft and reassuring, when Bucky's quiet tears finally start to subside, Steve asks, “Bucky is there anything I can do? Anything at all?” Bucky stills beneath him, and for a second Steve isn't sure what to think.

“I had him on the ropes,” Bucky whispers the inflection of his voice changes. Steve's stomach does a flip. 

“Uh...yeah, yeah...I guess you did, didn't you?”  
Bucky cranes his neck and his red rimmed eyes are looking back into Steve's. His expression is almost entirely different, something's changed. It raises the hairs on the back of Steve's neck. He notices the way that Bucky's hair resembles the style Steve himself used to wear. Can't help noticing the patterning of Bucky's plaid shirt, and the lack of any of Bucky's favorite colors. It all seems oddly familiar to Steve. 

“That's not...what you're supposed to say.” Bucky looks perplexed, quizzical even. “I know what I'm supposed to say, Steve always says that. 'I had him on the ropes.' I'm Steve, I have to say that, but...I don't know what the answer to it is.” Bucky's searching Steve's face for an answer. Steve feels his expression turning from confused to horrified.  
“Buck, Bucky, you....you can't be Steve, I'm Steve.” He grips his friend's shoulder to emphasize his words. 

Bucky shakes his head, “No, I am Steve Rogers, I became a soldier after being experimented on, my best friend died in the war in 1945 on a mission. Then I was in the ice.”

Bucky's voice cracks over the word ice, and Steve can't stop the sudden flood of panic that surges up in him. “No, I am Steve Rogers, you are my best friend. You didn't die in 1945.” Steve's grip has tightened enough to make Bucky jump. His eyes are wide with fear and pain. His hair falls out of the neat swoop it was in and into his eyes. Then suddenly, Bucky is snarling.

“No, stop it! Stop lying to me, I am Steve Rogers! Steve is safe, I want to be safe. I am Steve! He's my best friend and he'll always be there for me! ” Bucky is shouting, and twisting madly. His eyes are wide and feral. Steve tries to talk over his shouts, to calm him, but then the soldier is hitting him and it _hurts_. 

Steve manages to land a hold on the soldier and Bucky is twisting furiously. His metal arm is covered completely, and Steve wonders if it's because that isn't something _Steve_ would have. They struggle, and Steve manages to get a hold of him. The glove falls off of Bucky's hand in the process, and he lets out a terrified shout. The mechanical hand gleams in the sunlight. Dazzling. 

Steve lets go of Bucky equally shocked. He has to take a step back because he doesn't want to hurt his friend anymore. He doesn't want Bucky to be afraid of him because that hurts, and he feels like his heart is going to snap. He watches Bucky bend forward and cradle his prosthetic limb. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Bucky, please I didn't mean to...I just, I am Steve. I'm sorry I wasn't there before, please, I can help you now, please let me help.” 

Bucky looks numb, and Steve feels it reverberate in him, “I have to be Steve,” he whispers low and lifeless. 

“Okay, but look at your hand, your arm, you know that's not what I look like.” Steve intones. He takes a half step towards his friend. “I see that you've got the hair I used to have, and your wearing clothes like what I used to wear. But that doesn't make you me.” Bucky curls in on himself.

“But it's so cold,” Steve hears his friend mutter. 

Steve takes a breath, “It's okay, but please, if you don't look like me, can I at least call you Bucky?”

There's a small nod from Bucky in reply.

“Good,” Steve whispers. He's feeling somewhat relieved, but mostly terribly, terribly worried.  
He takes a hold of his friend's hand and helps him back to his feet. Steve tries to appear confident. He tries to steel himself for more pain. Bucky doesn't say a word. 

“Steve,” It comes out soft and child-like, Steve has to stop and gaze at his friend in surprise. Another looks seems to be inhabiting Bucky; this one may be more frightening than the last. “Where are we Steve?” Steve squeezes Bucky's hand. 

“We're safe Bucky.” The man looks at him, that wonder back in his eyes before he is nodding vigorously. 

As they walk back onto the street, Steve can hear the click of a safety turning off. He goes tense, and he can sense the gun pointing at him before the shot goes off. Everything stops. He knows who's hand is behind the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> This was really very inspired by a little video game called Final Fantasy VII, specifically the game's prequel, Crisis Core. The stories of Cloud/Zack and Steve/Bucky contain some remarkably similar themes. FFVII is really great however, because Cloud is made into an amnesic super SOLDIER as well. Of course, part of his story is where he takes on the persona of his dead best friend in order to cope with everything. So here it is. Stay tuned.


End file.
